The World Is Ahead
by EmpressOfSarcasm
Summary: Eleanor returns to Skyrim and finds herself allied with the Thieves Guild in Riften. There she reunites with her old friend Brynjolf and combats her own solitary nature. For the first time in fifteen years, she will find a family worth fighting for.
1. Prologue

**Bonjour! So this is the first of those multi-chapter fanfics that I promised about Eleanor, the Dovahkiin I introduced in "Noble Maiden Fair." This story will take place fifteen years after that fic and will involve the Thieves Guild questline. (I highly recommend reading that, as this will make more sense.)**

**The title is inspired by the score "The World Is Ahead" by Howard Shore from "The Hobbit." (The score for that movie is incredible! I highly recommend it!)**

**I do not own the Elder Scrolls, Skyrim, or any of its characters. They all belong to Bethesda. I do not own "The World Is Ahead" and that belongs to Howard Shore. I do, however, own Eleanor Victre (her full name to be revealed at another time).**

**Allons-y!**

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The World Is Ahead  
Prologue

They met when they were young. She was a girl just entering her tenth winter. He was almost sixteen. She was the daughter of a Breton noblewoman and a former Nord legionnaire and without any siblings. He was the son of Nord farmers with three older sisters. She was from the wild plains of Whiterun and he was from the golden forests of Riften.

Fate brought them together after she'd witnessed the murder of her parents. The road to Windhelm had been long and difficult. Though she wasn't without training, by the seventh day (she'd gotten lost) she was half-starved and as dangerous as a rabid wolf. He had ridden all the way from Riften, on a job for the Thieves Guild. Their paths had crossed and neither was ever the same again.

She spent fifteen years afterward travelling the whole of Tamriel. He spent it slowly climbing up the ranks of the Guild. Not once did they ever stop thinking of each other. Both understood that there was something intriguing about the other. Maybe it was destiny. Maybe it was coincidence. But whatever it was, neither was quite certain.

She eventually returned to Skyrim. The dark rumors there, the shadow that came and went, had caused her return. No one could say for certain what it was. No one knew what had come to the world; but she was determined to find out.

The prophecy had been fulfilled. Now the wheel had turned upon the last hope for Tamriel.

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**I'm sorry this is so short. :c But it's basically just here to set the scene and prepare you for what's to come. This story will officially begin with her arrival in Riften. :D From there chaos will undoubtedly ensue.**

**Please leave a review in the box below as every bit helps! Hope to see you all in a few days with the next chapter!**

**~A$h**


	2. Chapter 1

**I am so, so sorry for the delay. I've had so much homework over the last couple of weeks I thought I'd pull my hair out. Then ROTC has been keeping me plenty busy since I have to start working out for Leadership Academy. But I'm back!**

**Thanks to all who reviewed on the last chapter! You have no idea what it means to me!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls or anything you are familiar with in this story. I do, however, own Eleanor. She is my own character and I would appreciate you not using her without my express permission.**

**Allons-y!**

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Chapter 1

Eleanor could hardly believe her rotten luck. She'd started out her long-awaited return to her homeland by being captured by Imperial soldiers and branded a criminal, been sentenced to death, survived a dragon attack, faced the undead, and fought (and killed) a dragon within a period of forty-eight hours.

Oh, and she found out that she was the Dragonborn, but that wasn't exactly of the utmost importance.

It was several weeks later—it was the beginning of Heartfire—and she was sick and tired of being recognized as Thane of Whiterun. She had never wanted the attention. All she'd wanted was to find out what was going on.

_Guess you found out,_ she thought sourly, the rain soaking through her cloak and her clothes. _Why did it have to be dragons? Of all the things the Divines could think of, it had to be dragons. That's what you get for being curious, dumbass._

Suddenly the lights of Riften, the capital of the Rift, came into sight and she breathed a sigh of relief. She could go for a mug of strong ale, a warm meal, and a comfortable bed right then after two days of travelling on foot.

As Eleanor neared the main gate, a guard halted her. "Hold, citizen. I'm going to have to ask you to pay the visitor's tax," he said, holding out a hand for her to put the gold. "It'll be a hundred septims."

She scowled and gave the guard a good once-over. The armor didn't fit him right; it was sagging as if it were too big for his frame and there were several holes in the chainmail. There was a dagger poking out of his boot and he had a steel sword belted to his side where most guards settled for two-handed axes or greatswords. A smile would have graced her features if she wasn't spitting mad from the bad weather.

"You're obviously a thief," she said loudly. "And this is obviously a shakedown. Next time don't make it sound so rehearsed. And find some better armor."

She could bet that the man was scowling beneath his helm. A smirk quirked her lips and he replied, "Okay, okay. Let me unlock the gate and you can head inside." A moment later he unlocked the great wooden door and held it open for her. She nodded her thanks to him—though she was no less angry than she was before—and stepped into the city.

Glancing around to take note of her surroundings—a habit she'd picked up during her travels—she immediately noticed a few things. The city was dirty and stagnant. Filth lined the streets and it stank of gods only knew what.

Sticking to the shadows, she maneuvered through the streets, avoiding the waste and puddles of filth. She finally reached the only inn the city had to offer: the Bee and Barb, a witty reference to Riften's fishing and honey industry. People were walking out occasionally, some stumbling in a drunken stupor.

As she opened the door a wave of warmth washed over her. She sighed in content and squeezed through the masses to get to the bar. An Argonian named Keerava greeted her with a none-too-polite, "If you've got the coin you're welcome. Otherwise you can show yourself out."

Eleanor slipped her a couple of septims and in return received a mug of ale. She thanked her and quietly sipped her drink, scanning the crowd around her. A few people stood out to her: a mage who was probably an Imperial, a male and female Nord eating dinner quietly off to the side, two wealthy men drinking at a table and looking sullen, and a male Argonian who probably worked at the inn.

She kept her hood up and her head down. Riften may have been in the possession of the Stormcloaks but that didn't mean that the Thalmor hadn't found a way in. A crowd of dark elves walked past her, chatting quietly about the Black-Briar Meadery. _Workers,_ she decided as they glanced nervously between her and her ebony sword, Abyss.

As her cloak began to slowly dry the door she'd come through opened. She looked down at the dark liquid in her mug and decided to pay it no mind. She'd probably sleep at the inn tonight if she had enough coin and go off in search of work in the morning. Maybe she could get a job at the fishery…

"That's an awful lot of coin you're carrying," a lilting voice came from next to her. "But I'm willing to bet that you didn't earn a septim of it through honest means."

Eleanor scowled beneath her hood and her hand slowly inched towards her sword in case things got as ugly as they tended to around her. "I'll have you know I'm a well-respected member of society," she retorted. "I'm the daughter of a Breton noblewoman and a former Nordic legionnaire. I'm also a thane." If there was one thing she strived for, it was to leave behind her past as a rogue.

"Forgive me then," said the man, taking a seat on the stool next to her. "But you have all the makings of a dishonest woman. You're a shady character who just so happened to wander into the worst city in Skyrim with more coin on your person than most people will ever see in their lives."

That was when she looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and the frame of a warrior—a Nord if she ever saw one. He had fiery red hair which was just short of his shoulders and gleaming emerald eyes. He had a strong jaw and lips that were set in what appeared to be a mischievous half-grin. He was wearing the clothes of a rich man with an orcish dagger strapped to his belt.

What surprised her wasn't the man's good looks; it was that she knew him. They'd met, fifteen years earlier, when she was a walking skeleton; half-starved and like a wild animal. He'd offered her help and she'd been unable to refuse. He had changed her life with his kindness.

_You're impossible to leave behind, Brynjolf,_ she thought wryly. "I've been through a lot in the last fifteen years," she said cryptically. "In that time I _have_ been a thief… And what about you, Brynjolf?"

Brynjolf peered at Eleanor more closely. "Do I know you?" he asked.

She lowered her hood, a slight smile on her face, and faced her friend. "It's been a long time, old friend" she whispered.

It took a moment for him to realize it was her. When he did his face lit up in excitement. They both stood and embraced. "It's wonderful to see you again, lass!" he exclaimed. His arms held her firmly to him and his warmth seeped into her. With a start she realized just how much she missed the comfort of another person.

They parted and Brynjolf held her out at arm's length to study her. "You've certainly changed," he muttered, almost to himself. "I take it you saw more than you wanted to during your travels."

Eleanor nodded and sat down. He did the same. "It… it's been difficult. But I've managed. And what about you? You certainly seem to have had an easier time than I."

He shrugged and took a sip of her ale. A grin plastered itself to her face as she remembered all the times when they had been in Windhelm, sharing each other's food like it wasn't a problem. It was comforting to see that nothing had changed. "I moved up in the ranks over the last several years," he said nonchalantly. "It's all part of the job, lass. So where have you been? You didn't write—not that I expected you to."

She laughed easily. "I spent a year in Morrowind, a year in Black Marsh, four years in Elsweyr, five years in Valenwood, two in Hammerfell, one in Orsinium, and one in High Rock. Then I came back home to Skyrim. In that time I've been a lot of things."

A comfortable silence fell between them. As they took turns sipping out of the mug, Brynjolf asked, "Are you still looking to make some coin lass?"

Eleanor cocked an eyebrow as she answered, "Of course, old friend. Why? Do you have work that needs done?"

His infamously mischievous smile crossed his face. "I've always got work, lass. You see, there's a certain Dunmer merchant we're looking to put out of business…"

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**Brynjolf's character was difficult to write for initially. But after watching BBC's **_**Sherlock**_** the character became a bit easier. (His mannerisms are slightly inspired by Benedict Cumberbatch's version of Sherlock Holmes.) Eleanor will be a slight mix of Irene Adler and Sherlock from the show. But for the most part she's entirely original.**

**I'm hoping to update every couple of weeks now but I don't know how well that will go. (I'm going to Leadership Academy at the end of June, which is a week. Then I'm going to San Francisco and Stanford with my dad sometime in July and maybe New England.)**

**Please let me know what you think in the review section below and I will see you as soon as I can!**

**~A$h**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim, "The World is Ahead" by Howard Shore, or any characters you recognize.**

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Chapter 2

The very next morning Eleanor awoke early. The sun had yet to rise and the world was still dark, shrouded in the shadows cast in the glow of the moons and stars. She sat up in the small bed and glanced around. The dirty window revealed the view of the lake, whose waters reflected the sky and the silent city. A deep fog was just beginning to settle over the city.

She smiled softly to herself and ran a hand through her long, golden hair. She was truly in Riften and she was going to help Brynjolf later in the morning. _Fifteen years,_ she mused as she fell back onto the pelts.

Eleanor had tempted fate far more times than she cared to admit. She should've died on her birthday fifteen years ago when her parents were brutally butchered. She certainly would have died had Brynjolf not saved her and brought her to Windhelm several days after. Her enemies could have killed her on numerous occasions during her travels but never got so far as to find her. _You're a damn lucky bitch, that's for certain._

She had spent her time in Morrowind training herself in the use of a sword. Her skills had been perfected there to a razor-sharp point. Her days in Black Marsh were spent learning to hold her breath for extended amounts of time and hand-to-hand combat. She'd spent many a night with nosebleeds that lasted for hours during her stay. Her time in Elsweyr was spent with a travelling circus who taught her how to be a proper thief. More often than not they robbed their clients blind while performing or the night after. Valenwood had won her heart with its beauty while she lived there, training with bows until her palms bled. The two years she'd been in Hammerfell had been turbulent, as she spent one year training to become a natural assassin and then adruptly leaving for Stros M'kai and becoming a pirate. And then she left for Orsinium, where she learned the secrets of smithing from the the orcs. She spent her final year of travel in her mother's homeland of High Rock. There she learned far more advanced forms of the arcane arts while mourning the loss of her Breton family, which had occurred years earlier.

And all the while she was running from the Aldmeri Dominion. She looked down and clutched her amulet of Talos, which her father had given her for her fifth birthday. _Your beliefs are your own, Eleanor, _she remembered her father telling her. _Don't let anyone tell you who or what to believe in. And certainly don't let the Dominion tell you who you can't worship if that's what you want to believe in._

A small tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. _Talos give me strength, _she prayed. _Akatosh grant me wisdom. Kyne give me the ability to do what needs to be done. Nocturnal grant me luck._

It was another day of survival. That was all it was.

**X~X~X**

The sun began to rise and Eleanor rose with it. She dressed her breeches and tunic, which were stained with dirt and travel. She reminded herself to collect supplies to make herself some new armor, since her last set had been destroyed beyond repair after defeating a dragon near Shor's Stone.

She pulled on a pair of boots and belted the engraved steel dagger her father had given her, dubbed "Malkar's Bane" several years earlier, to her side. Then she took stock of her supplies and gently wrapped Abyss in a cloth and put it into her pack.

She walked downstairs to the main room of the inn and ordered a small breakfast from Keerava consisting of bread, cheese, and water. _A clear head,_ she reminded herself. _A clear conscience. Divines give me strength._

That was what made Eleanor an exception. She was the only thief she'd ever known who was religious. From a young age she'd been encouraged to find her own path in life and worship whoever she wanted. Her parents always acknowledged the possibility of her not believing in any divine or daedra whatsoever but that had never been the case. From the moment she could understand these concepts (which was quite young compared to other children) she identified the immortals she believed in: Talos, Akatosh, Kyne, and Nocturnal. Not even thievery had changed her mind. Being from her family line tended to have that kind of effect.

By the time she finished her breakfast it was almost eight in the morning. Soon it would be time to begin her scheme with Brynjolf. She gave a gentle sigh and walked out of the inn, thanking Keerava for her hospitality. The Argonian huffed and otherwise ignored her, scrubbing down the counter with a cloth.

Eleanor stepped outside and it was like the whole city had transformed overnight. The air was crisp and cool, smelling of tree sap, salt, and something distinctly fresh and clean. The streets were no longer coated in filth and the whole world seemed new to her.

"I forgot that this is your first time in Riften," Brynjolf said, standing next to her. "What do you think?"

She examined the marketplace with its small stands; the vendors were out and preparing their wares for the coming crowd. Behind it was the keep, its stone walls high and imposing. To the left was the temple dedicated to Mara, where banners fluttered in the morning breeze. The blacksmith, to the right of the marketplace, was already out and pounding away at the metals. People were beginning to gather to inspect and buy goods.

"Compared to some of the places I've been it's a form of paradise," she answered. "But then I think of all the beauty I've seen and the city is nothing but a cesspool of foul maggots, writhing about in the filth of greed."

He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "So you like it."

Eleanor had a hard time suppressing her smile. The two walked over to a stand where they began pulling bottles out of a couple of stacked crates. She studied them for a moment. "What's in these, Bryn?"

"A mix of mead, juniper berries, and a weak stamina potion," Brynjolf replied. "But everyone in Riften is about to think something entirely different." He winked and set down a couple of flasks.

"_This _is your distraction?" she wondered incredulously. "You're really going to have to put yourself out there for anyone to believe this one."

"The people here'll believe anything you tell them," he answered. "You just have to make yourself convincing. You ready, lass?"

She glanced around the plaza. People were milling around already, despite the early hour, and vendors were already shouting at potential customers. Her heart began to pound. She looked back at her friend. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Brynjolf grinned and put a hand on her shoulder. "Just remember the plan and you'll do fine."

She nodded and disappeared into the crowd, making herself indistinguishable from the next person. She could hear Brynjolf gathering a crowd and the flow of citizens thinned as they heeded his calls.

Madesi's stall wasn't too difficult to find. A wide assortment of jewelry and precious stones were laid out in locked cases. Where Madesi would have stood was a vacant space; he'd obviously been curious about Bryn's scam. She snuck around the stand and pulled out her lockpicks.

It took her seconds to unlock the sliding grate which hid the strongbox from sight. She grinned as she picked the lock on the strongbox, and then emptied the thing of its contents. She slipped the ring, which was the center of the plot, onto her finger so she wouldn't lose it and stuffed the gold into her pockets.

She snuck around the plaza again toward Brand-Shei's stand. He was their real target. According to Brynjolf there was someone who wanted him put out of business and the only way to do it was by making it look like Brand-Shei had stolen Madesi's ring.

Brand-Shei was sitting on a stack of crates next to his stall. There was a small gap between two of the crates, leaving Eleanor with a lovely space for planting the ring in his pocket. Brynjolf continued to talk about the scam potion. Apparently he was trying to pass it off as "Falmer Blood Elixir," essentially the blood of the Falmer which would give you special abilities. She rolled her eyes.

Eleanor's heart began to pound relentlessly as she slipped the ring off of her finger. She moved her hand towards his pocket slowly, trying to be as silent as possible. With practiced care she slid the ring into Brand-Shei's pocket, completely undetected. A smile quirked her lips.

She snuck back around the stand and stood. Brynjolf saw her and they both nodded. He was grinning.

"I see that my time is up," he said to the crowd. "Come by tomorrow if you wish to purchase anything."

The crowd dispersed rather quickly after that. Some were grumbling and others were chatting lively about the "elixir." Eleanor walked up to Brynjolf and grinned widely at him. "That wasn't much of a job," she joked. "Got anything better?"

He smiled cheekily back at her and handed her a small coinpurse. "Considering how well you performed, lass, I'd say there's plenty of jobs where that came from… If you're interested, of course."

She winked and slipped the pouch into her pocket. "I'm always looking for something to do, Bryn."

"Excellent," he replied. "When you're ready for any more work, meet me in the Ragged Flagon in the Ratway. Then we'll talk business."

With that, Brynjolf sauntered off and disappeared into the crowd.

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**I'm so, so sorry about the late update. (To those Canadians actually READING this.) It's been hard to motivate myself to write this since I've been working on the sequels and a couple of oneshots related to the story. That and writer's block and Leadership Academy and my visit to Stanford.**

**I would really appreciate it if at least one of you would review this chapter. c: It makes it easier to write since I'd have some form of motivation and it makes me feel better about my writing.**

**~A$h**


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